


A Very Weird Library: The Librarians Drabble & Ficlet Collection

by alessandralee



Category: The Librarians (TV 2014)
Genre: Drabble Collection, F/M, Ficlet Collection
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-02
Updated: 2015-12-23
Packaged: 2018-03-10 05:40:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 3,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3278837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alessandralee/pseuds/alessandralee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of my Librarians drabbles and ficlets. Multiple pairings and/or characters, all noted in the chapter titles.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Warm and Fuzzy (Ezekiel/Cassandra)

"We're exactly alike. I can tell you how he's going to react."

"You’re not exactly alike," Cassandra points out. "He has a lab coat."

"And gray hair," Jake adds. "You might want to get prepared for that."

"I wasn’t going to mention the gray hair," Cassandra comments so that only she and Ezekiel can hear.

"Gray hair or not, my point still stands," Ezekiel returns to the argument he was trying to make. "He’s me from another dimension, so if anyone knows how he’s going to think it’s me. And if your warm and fuzzy reasons for putting our necks on the line aren’t persuading me, they definitely aren’t going to work on him."

Baird throws her hands up in frustration, “Fine, then we’ll take another look at it, see if we can come up with a reason why it benefits him to give us a hand.”

She heads out of the room, Jake following her as he suggests, “You think we can tell him that if he helps us get out of here, we’ll have a better chance of sending him back where he came from? Or is that too vague?”

Cassandra hops up on the table Colonel Baird was leaning over and waits until she and Jake are out of earshot.

"You know sometimes the warm and fuzzy reasons do work on you," she points out.

"That is absolutely not," he begins enthusiastically, before thinking about the time he followed her to Peru, and then the time the two of them nearly died trying to pull Jake out of magical quicksand, "something that you should share with the others," he finishes.

She smiles.


	2. Proposal (Flynn/Eve)

"What are you doing? Why are you on one knee? Get up! Get up!"

When she says ‘get up,’ she’s expecting him to stand and run (actually, she’s expecting him to completely ignore her demands and keep kneeling there, but she wants him to run). 

Instead, he gets to his feet and pulls her into a long, deep kiss. And okay, she returns it, because she’s pretty certain they’re about to be stabbed to death by angry faeries (the ones that look like Tolkien’s elves, not the tiny ones with butterfly wings, which she’s recently learned are actually called pixies). And if she’s going to die, she might as well get one last good kiss in.

But then the tourists step in. They clap and cheer, and Eve is pretty sure that one old woman is actually shedding a tear.

The faeries, suddenly wary of committing murder in front of a large group of witnesses, hover at the back of the crowd. And that gives Ezekial just enough time to ride in on a motorcycle (she’s not ever going to ask how he got a motorcycle this close to Stonehenge, she’s almost positive she doesn’t want to know). Flynn hops into the sidecar and Eve decides it’s best to just climb on behind Ezekiel and not waste time fighting over who gets to drive.

And not that she isn’t grateful for the time and attention Flynn bought with his fake proposal, she just wishes he could let her in on his plans from time to time.


	3. Bouquet (Ezekiel/Cassandra)

“Yeah, nothing says ‘I love you’ more than a bouquet that’ll die in two days.”

“First of all, I didn’t see you complaining about those chocolates and those didn’t last two hours, much less two days,” Cassandra leans over the table to tap on the heart shaped box that at one point held more than two dozen chocolate truffles.

“That’s because they were delicious and nourishing,” Ezekiel replies, his mouth still full with the last of the chocolates, a caramel filled one that sticks to his teeth. “Flowers are neither delicious or nourishing.”

“Chocolate is definitely not nourishing,” she rolls her eyes. “And flowers are thoughtful.”

“You can’t eat thoughtful,” he says, grabbing a carnation from Cassandra’s bouquet and pretending to bite down on it for emphasis.

“Actually, a number of flowers are edible. Including,” she grabs the flower from his hand, “carnations.”

She holds it out to him, eyebrow raised in a challenge. He stares at the flower for a minute, but he can’t back down from something like this. Quickly and fluidly, he grabs the bloom and bites into the petals.

“It’s sweet,” he says after he’s chewed and swallowed. “Kind of. But I think I’ll stick with chocolate going forward.”


	4. Fun and Festive (Ezekiel/Cassandra)

"It’s just Valentine’s day… I don’t see the big deal." 

"It’s not a big deal," Cassandra admits, "but it’s fun and festive."

She does like fun and festive. He remembers how excited she got over Santa.

Speaking of which…

"Cupid’s not real, is he?" Ezekiel calls across the room to Jenkins. The last thing he needs is to get shot in the back by a baby with an overgrown sense of importance.

Jenkins looks up, “Not the one in the diaper, no. But Eros, like most other Greco-Roman deities, does exist.” He adds, “Fortunately, they’re all too involved in their own squabbles to interfere much in the lives of mortals these days.”

That’s a relief.

"Cupid’s not real," Ezekiel tells Cassandra, "therefore, I am not pinning him onto my shirt."

"Fine," Cassandra doesn’t put up nearly the fight he’d been expecting, instead pinning the brooch to her own sweater, which is pink and covered in tiny red hearts, "at least take this scarf."

She unwinds it from around her neck and loops it around his. It’s plain red, so it doesn’t even remind him too much of the holidays. And besides, it they’re going to be running around Moscow in the middle of February, it won’t hurt him to be warm.


	5. Valentine (Flynn/Eve)

"I’ve never had a Valentine." 

He says it casually, like it’s no big deal, but she knows better. There’s the slightest difference from the tone he uses to say, “Oh maybe don’t look the gorgon in the eye,” like all NATO agents should be intimately familiar with Greek mythology.

It’s a big deal.

"I haven’t had on in years," she offers. And she hasn’t, not since college, not since she decided that working trumped a social life.

"Then maybe we should go get drinks tonight," he tells her, not making eye contact as he flips through a book that looks just about to crumble to dust.

She can think of a dozen excuses. It’s Valentines Day, the bars are going to be packed. She’s not really dressed for a date. They have the pressing issue of Morgan Le Fay’s sudden return to deal with.

But honestly, all she can think of is the fact that a date might actually move them past the ‘surprise kissing before disappearing’ phase they’ve been stuck in for months.

"I could definitely use a drink," she says.


	6. Scamp (Ezekiel/Cassandra)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> out walking their dog who chases after the other person's dog AU

He’s a little surprised when a small Jack Russell Terrier darts out of the woods and plows into Maggie’s side. It’s less because the dog came out of nowhere and more because Maggie’s huge and the other dog clearly doesn’t have any self-preservation instinct.

"I’m so sorry," a redheaded woman appears out of the woods the little dog just came through. "Scamp’s not usually so…"

"Scamp-ish?" Ezekiel offers.

"Pretty much," the woman smiles. "She’s usually more mild mannered."

Ezekiel looks down and Scamp, who’s currently darting between Maggie’s legs. It’s hard to imagine that dog as mild mannered. Maggie, on the other hand, is just watching the little dog.

When Scamp finally moves out of the way, Maggie saunters over to the redhead and lays down at her feet. Absently, the woman leans down and scratches behind her ears, “Now you’re a well behaved dog, aren’t you? Not like Scamp.” She glares in her own dog’s direction.

"I think she just likes you," Ezekiel offered. "Usually she pees on strangers."

The woman quickly pulls her feet out from under Maggie’s belly, “I think I’m okay for now.”


	7. A Long Time (Flynn/Eve)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> mortal and immortal AU

Rather than say anything, Eve turns around and pulls a cocktail off a waiter’s tray and downs it.

All in all, it’s not the worst the reaction someone’s had to his secret.

"Well I guess that explains the encyclopedic knowledge of Ancient Greece," she eventually says.

Flynn laughs, “Don’t be ridiculous, I’m not that old.”

Eve looks around for another unsuspecting waiter, but there’s no one in sight.

"Then how old are you?" she whispers.

Flynn just smiles enigmatically. It’s even more frustrating than usual.

"And it’s a curse?" she asks. "Let me guess, the pain of watching your loved ones grow old and die."

He nods and takes a sip of his own drink, “Got it in one.”

"Is it as awful as it sounds?" Eve asks. She has some experience with lost comrades, she doesn’t think she can even imagine centuries of it.

He looks at her with a smile, “Some parts are better than others.”


	8. Thunder (Ezekiel/Cassandra)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Domestic AU for the prompt "A thunderstorm is rolling through town and Person A is afraid of lightening/thunder so Person B offers some comfort."

Boom.

Ezekiel cringes at the sound and pulls the pillow tighter over his ears. Rolling onto his side again, he checks the glowing red numbers on the alarm clock.

3:11 AM. He’s already lost over a half an hour of precious sleep, and he’s so wide awake that, even if the thunder stops now, it’ll take him a while to fall back asleep.

And of course he’s supposed to leave in less than 6 hours for that stupid hiking trip. 

(He’d been so close to talking Flynn into celebrating his impending nuptials with an after hours visit to the Museum of Natural History, but somehow Jake got him to agree to a few days at a cabin the woods. Ezekiel’s still not sure how that happened.)

Hopefully this damn storm delays their starting time. Experience has taught Ezekiel not to hope for much sleep when they’re out in the woods. Too many bugs and small animals to worry about pecking his eyes out while he sleeps.

Boom.

This time he doesn’t flinch, just checks the clock again.

3:14 AM. Before he realizes what he’s doing, a small groan escapes his lips.

The other side of the bed shifts as Cassandra rolls over. She’s slept through nearly 45 minutes of thunder and lightening, of course a small groan wakes her up.

“Everything okay?” she whispers.

“Storm,” he explains. “It’s so loud, I can’t think, much less sleep.”

The noise Cassandra makes in response is either a tired sigh or a laugh. He’s hoping for sigh, but he’s pretty sure it’s a laugh at his expense.

“Roll over,” she instructs him, grogginess making her sound even calmer than usual.

He obeys, rolling over so his back is facing towards her. 

Quietly, she slides up against his back, draping her left arm over his side.

“Close your eyes,” she says. “And count backwards from one thousand.”

He still flinches the next time the thunder rumbles through the bedroom, but he’s out cold before he even reaches 900.


	9. Orly (Ezekiel/Cassandra)

“What’s with the animals?” Ezekiel asks, perching next to Cassandra on the edge of her desk.

“Now that I have a desk of my own,” she tells him, “I’m decorating.”

“With internet memes?” he asks. That definitely wouldn’t be is desk décor scheme of choice.

Cassandra shrugs happily, “They’re cute.”

“Okay,” Ezekiel says with a laugh. “Whatever floats your boat.”

Cassandra swats him off her desk and opens one of the drawers he was sitting on top of.

“I also,” she pulls a frame out and sets it down on one corner of the desk, “got this.”

Ezekiel doesn’t need to lean over to guess what the photo’s of, but he does anyway. Mostly because it amuses him to see that he and Cassandra are the only ones actually looking at the camera (well Jenkins is too, but he’s scowling, so it doesn’t count).

“Nice.”


	10. Cookies (Ezekiel/Cassandra)

He’s a little surprised to see unpacking a box of store-bought cookies into a little basket before their meeting.

“I had you pegged as a home-made cookie purist,” he tells her as she tosses the box in the trash. “You know, made with love and all that.”

“I am, usually,” Cassandra tells him. Then she adds in a teasing tone, “I even have seasonal aprons that I wear when I bake.”

He crinkles his nose at the idea of owning any aprons, much less having a collection.

“Those are definitely not home made,” he points out. First of all, they all look identical, which he’s pretty sure is impossible to do by hand. And second of all, the dye in the frosting is so brightly colored it hurts his eyes. That has to be industrial.

“You would be correct,” she fishes two out of the basket and holds one out to him. “But we just got back from Yokohama six hours ago. Home made is great, but so is sleep.”

They both bite into their cookies and simultaneously grimace. Ezekiel goes so far as to grab for a napkin to spit his out into.

“Maybe I’ll stick to chocolate chip next time,” Cassandra says, dumping the basket out into the trash.


	11. Reservations (Flynn/Eve)

It’s been a while since I wrote something for The Librarians. And I’ve had this prompt in my head for weeks now.

If Eve Baird was the type of person to keep records of which magical creatures were the most difficult to work with, centaurs would take the cake.

They were either drunk and lazy, drunk and sloppy, drunk and handsy, or drunk and belligerent. It was enough to make her miss the dragons.

So all she really wants to do, after three long days of dealing with them, is go home, take a long, hot bath, and have a drink of her own.

Instead she gets Flynn Carsen.

She’s so exhausted, he might have completely slipped her notice, if not for Cassandra rushing past to greet him.

Eve waits quietly as Cassandra hugs him, then Ezekiel and Jake say hello. The LITs, just as drained as she is, then make their excuses to leave.

Jenkins doesn’t say anything, but the look he gives them before disappearing upstairs makes it clear he’s leaving them alone intentionally.

“Guardian,” Flynn greets her with an incline of his head.

“Librarian,” she says in return.

“Long day at the office?” he asks.

Eve sighs. She could explain that it’s actually been three days, and that they’ve involved sacred artifacts, arcane knowledge, and abducting teenage girls. But that requires more effort than she’s capable of at the moment.

Instead, she simply says, “Centaurs.”

Flynn grimaces, “Yeah, that’ll do it.”

Eve takes a seat on top of a nearby desk. It feels wonderful to be off her feet.

“Please tell me they’re as bad as it gets,” she wants to beg, but she shows some restraint.

Flynn hesitates, “Unfortunately, that would be lying.”

She doesn’t want to think about what could possibly be worse than perpetually inebriated horse-people with terrible hygiene. They made those frat parties she went to in college seem like picnics.

“So what brings you to town?” she asks.

It’s been weeks since she’s him. With the library restored, his visits have gotten fewer and farther between.

Busy saving the world, or something. She understands; she’s doing it too. But a part of her wishes he wasn’t so content with just letting their paths cross where they may.

“Long story,” he says. “I could tell it to you over dinner?”

Eve can’t help but laugh at him. She’s holding out hope that she’ll remain conscious long enough to pick up some Vietnamese food on her way home. There’s no way she’d make it through a sit down meal.

“I thought so,” Flynn doesn’t seem offended by her sudden outburst. “How about tomorrow?”

“Will you be here tomorrow?” she asks. She doesn’t mean for her words to have an edge to them, but they do.

He just comes and goes as he pleases. It would be an annoying trait in a business partner, but it’s incredibly confusing given whatever weird almost dating space they currently occupy.

“I will be,” Flynn at least looks a little bit guilty. “I made reservations at that Italian place you like.”

“La Signorina?” Eve’s brows lift in surprise. She doesn’t even recall mentioning that place. Now he’s more confusing than ever.

Reservations require forethought, planning. They aren’t last minute, the way Flynn usually operates.

“Eight o’clock?” Flynn says. “But I can cancel.”

“Don’t cancel,” she says firmly. “I’ll be there.”

It’s only dinner. It’s only a small show of effort. But it’s a nice change of pace.

“In that case, I will leave you to what I assume is a takeout binge and an early bedtime,” he says.

Maybe he pays more attention that Eve always thought.

“Goodnight,” she says, grabbing her car keys.

“Sweet dreams.”


	12. Boxes (Ezekiel/Cassandra)

“Okay, so it’s definitely not the pony I asked for,” Cassandra notes as she picks up the box from under the tree.

She shakes it for good measure; it’s always fun to try and guess what she’s gotten before opening the present.

It’s too lightweight to be the chocolate sleigh she spotted in Bern. That’s probably a good thing though, that much chocolate would make her sick to her stomach and she’s never been good at pacing herself.

“Jenkins said the goats are too territorial and there’s nowhere else in the library that can support ponies,” Ezekiel explains.

It was sweet of him to check.

Carefully, she slides one finger under a gap in the paper, careful not to rip it. The cartoon elves are too cute not to save. She could probably frame it and use it as a decoration next year.

The box underneath is plain and white, like a department store box, but without a giant logo plastered on it.

Clothes, maybe. Her taste is a little out there, but probably predictable.

Opening the lid, she’s surprised to see another layer of wrapping paper, this time red and white striped like a candy cane.

“Huh,” she gasps.

She can hear Ezekiel chuckle behind her.

This time she doesn’t bother to be careful with the paper, she tears it straight down the middle and pulls each half apart.

There’s another box, slightly smaller than the last, this time with a giant Christmas tree printed directly on it.

She opens that to find a thin layer of sparkly red tissue paper, and then another box.

“Seriously?” She says to Ezekiel.

He grins.

“Merry Christmas.”

The boxes get smaller and smaller as she goes, and he never repeats the same wrapping paper twice. She’d be impressed by both the effort and his ability to scrounge up so many different boxes, if she wasn’t so completely frustrated by it.

By the time she reaches the purple star-shaped box (even Ezekiel couldn’t wrap that one prettily, it has so many awkward angles), she practically flings the lid across the room in her haste to open it.

Inside lies a small, black velvet box.

The kind you put jewelry in.

“Is this the last one?” she asks.

It has better not be. She might like jewelry even more than she likes chocolate. Faking her out like this would just be cruel.

“Open it up and see,” he tells her.

He’s watching her carefully, though. She takes that as a hint that her actual gift is inside.

She pulls gently on the lid and it opens to reveal a silver bracelet. Gingerly, she pinches the cording and pulls it up.

There, hanging off the thin chain is a tiny charm. It’s shaped like a unicorn, all in silver save for its horn, which looks like it might be some kind of crushed opal. Boy does it sparkle.

“No luck with the real pony, so I figured this was the next best thing,” Ezekiel explains.

Cassandra immediately flings herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck.

“It’s better than a real pony,” she whispers in his ear.

And it is. She can’t drag a living, breathing animal around with her 24/7, but she can certainly wear this.

Cassandra pulls back from him and sticks out the hand that holds her new bracelet.

“Put it on, put it on,” she begs. “I want to wear it to brunch at the Annex.”

He happily obliges.


End file.
